“Okay, then,” my brother said in a low, menacing, but loud voice. “We’ll do this, but remember: NOBODY leaves this place alive. No witnesses this time!” I looked around to see if anyone had heard. There was nobody around. We went in. The people serving fast food inside knew us, and they knew what to expect. “Six large orders of French fries, please! To go,” my brother said. The person at the counter didn’t blush. My brother forked over the cash, then stepped aside. I stepped up.
Aldo Google "French fries in the American south west"
